As I look back, I recognize that in the later years of Al’s life, he experienced the desires of his heart. First came his job. Over the years, Al expressed regret at becoming a physical therapist instead of a doctor. As a physician, he would have had more autonomy, and that would have suited him well. We even considered his going to medical school in the early 90’s, but with prayer and counsel, we realized it was too late. When Al became self-employed, he was able to secure a contract with two neurologists and Hughston Hospital to provide testing. He also arranged to provide part-time therapy for Care South, a home health agency.
When Al began working with home health, he brought to the service the benefits of his many years of experience in medicine. He gave such thorough care that many times people would grieve when their allotted visits were over. Others would call the office and say that no one but Al should be assigned to their case. Al was surprised and pleased to find that the work he was doing was appreciated. He began to receive more and more joy in serving people. He saved a number of lives by sending critical patients to the emergency room, calling family members for needs. He brought wood to a poor family with a wood-burning stove and helped sell some items for an aged grandmother whose husband just died and they lost his social security check. Al often spoke fondly of his patients, especially Uncle Bobby and Sherry in Pine Mountain. Bobby had been told he had “no rehab potential” but Al saw him and promised to have him walking before Christmas. So began a relationship that continued for nearly a year. They became friends, and both Al and the couple grieved when he was no longer able to provide P.T. help.
It blessed Al greatly when he consistently received positive feedback from coworkers and patients. He enjoyed his work more and more. He also delighted in being able to share his faith with those who needed encouragement. Al’s daily study of God’s Word over many years had cemented his solid foundation on the truths contained within.
In addition, he began to move forward in his long-standing desire to find a retirement home in Colorado. It took quite a while for me to buy into the dream. I had no wish to be a two-house family. I had grown up in poor conditions, and I knew how to get along with simple needs. However, when I realized that the home could be a blessing to others, a retreat to draw closer to God through the amazing beauty of the Rockies, I agreed. Through Clay Copeland of Jefferson Realty, we found our beautiful mountain “cabin.” Al brought a trailer load of tools and furniture he had built of cedar in March of 2007. Over the summer, we stayed out there. Al flew back and forth from work - a week in Georgia, two weeks in Colorado. From spring to autumn, he worked very hard finishing the basement. He added a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a living area. Anyone who visited was handed tools! We all pitched in and by November, it was finished. The next summer we hosted an Ahlman family reunion. Al began to take more and more joy in seeing others relax and love what he loved. He delighted in taking people fishing, baiting their hooks, taking scenic drives, photographing beautiful scenery, grilling his famous “chickie” and sitting on the deck, soaking up the clear mountain air. Oh, and playing his favorite card game, Pitch.
As our children left home in Georgia and more space was available, we began to invite young people into our house to be part of our family. Over the years, we hosted 10 of them, and Al was blessed to share with them. Al never wanted to be pushed into “ministry” but this was something the two of us could do together, and it gave him joy.
Al’s relationships deepened. He had a few close friends among church and extended family members, and he took greater and greater pleasure in his children. Before his death, he was able to bless each one in their lives and work. Al grew into his name. He became cheerful. He loved to play with words, to reinvent them (especially if it made me, the English teacher, squirm!). He had a quick wit, but you had to be listening and paying attention.
As I wrote on the memorial folder, Al lived a large life. He was a big man and he had big goals and dreams and accomplishments. But in the last weeks of his life, all he really cared about was the love of his family, the love of God’s word, and the security of his salvation. One of his dying wishes was that all of his children and grandchildren would receive salvation.
Over 25 years ago, we were in a small group and praying for one another. One young man opened his eyes and looked at Al and said, “One day, people will say about you, ‘Is this the same man?’ ’ Is this the same man?’ because so much love will come from you.”
I am a witness to the truth of this prophetic declaration. Al loved me well. He loved his family. He loved his job. He was a good steward of everything that God gave him. He was a highly intelligent, hard-working, loyal, faithful man. I have no doubt whatsoever that Al heard God say as He welcomed him into his kingdom, “Well done, good and faithful servant!”
As Al began to reflect over several weeks on his decision to leave our church, he realized that he had a pattern of over-reaction to smaller triggers. He did not want to go to a counselor; there was no one he trusted completely. Since we were now between churches, I suggested that we take time together to talk about those reactions and pray for God to show us the source.
It was early autumn of 2002. The weather was pleasant. We began taking our Bibles, a notebook, and a thermos of cappacino (a mix from Sam’s) to Pine Mountain on Sunday mornings. Sometimes we pulled over to a lookout area; other times we parked at a campground that overlooked a small lake. Each week we would begin with prayer for God’s guidance. It was an amazing and precious season for us. I can’t even explain how it happened, but whatever Scripture we addressed led us into more discussion, more understanding, more layers of Al’s soul. It was such a privilege to be able to walk with my husband through this tough, yet tender time of reflection. He was able to talk about incidents he had stuffed down for many years. When I asked him why he had kept those things hidden, he said that it didn’t make any sense to him to think about hard and painful experiences, so he just put them away. However, he began to see that they still carried strength and power over his emotions, causing him to react in exaggerated ways.
One of the most dramatic experiences that he had buried was a time in the park in Milwaukee. He loved to play basketball. He was on outdoor court one day, the only white boy. As some guys were mixing it up, the game got physical, and some guys threatened Al. They said if he ever came back, he would be in trouble. He came back some time later thinking he could just shoot baskets alone. Shortly after, three guys came up and surrounded him, moving in, flashing knives. Al remembered praying for the strength of David when he defended himself. He had a baseball bat. When the fight was over, Al was running out of the park, and the other three were on the ground. Al has wondered over the years if one of the guys even survived because he was not moving and Al had struck him on the back of the neck. He was afraid he had killed him.
After a couple of months, Al called my brother Paul, a pastor in Lawrence, Kansas. He wanted Paul to pray for the issues that we had talked about, so we flew in and out over a weekend. Al spent quite a bit of time talking alone with Paul, and when they were ready, the four of us prayed together. I remember the intensity and power of those prayers. One in particular stands out to me. Al sometimes came up with bizarre conclusions about the behavior of people, and no one could convince him otherwise. Paul prayed for his mental health. Over the months that followed, I saw significant changes. Al was not wound up as tightly. He had more patience, and he was more open to hearing other viewpoints.
Looking back, I mark that as a turning point in Al’s life. He didn’t have to carry around an emotional backpack of unhappiness or resentment or anger or bitterness any longer. It was one thing to know, based upon Scripture, that he should not carry those things; it was another to actually forgive offenses that he had collected during his lifetime.
Next Chapter: The Desires of His Heart
We moved into a lovely spot on the Chattahoochee River at 3 Shalom Place. The name alone suggested peace and tranquility. We had a dock but no boat. The kids braved the muddy water for swims anyway. God had worked so many miracles in moving us and providing a home that we never would have thought we could afford, but the owner accepted our lower bid.
Within a fairly short time, however, the trials began to come. Al discovered that his new boss who appeared gracious and warm at first, was difficult to work for. In addition, their worldviews clashed. He was an atheist and Al a Christian, and it seemed to color his supervisor’s appreciation of Al as an employee. In addition, Al discovered that the former owner of our home had taken many shortcuts in his maintenance, some that were scary. The wiring had to be redone, and the house had never been caulked. Al reached up to check a spot on the fireplace outside, and the whole section gave way. We had our first experience with a hurricane. Opal moved up the Chattahoochee, and we had to replace the roof and deal with downed trees. Our family was so familiar with tornadoes in Kansas, that the spectacular views of straight-line winds blowing the transformers and creating colorful fireworks displays fascinated the kids and me, but Al slept through it.
We became house poor. Since we were paying more for this home than ever before, we intended to get our bearings in the community, sell within a year, and move, hopefully to the country. It did not happen. The house would not sell, and Al became more and more frustrated with work. We were raising teenagers (except Beth had left for college). Our home life was full of tension with parenting frictions, financial woes, and Al’s dissatisfaction. Al fretted and stewed over it, regretting that he had moved his family across the country to a worse situation. He decided that he had not discerned clear guidance from the Lord (though I knew that was not true), and that he just had to make decisions based on his own perceptions and judgments. He also had a hard time adapting to the cultural differences. Al had never liked change, anyway. Rather than adapting, he just got agitated.
Al had some hearing issues, and the Southern accent was hard for him to understand. One day he came home and called 911 to report a fender bender up the road. Twice he tried and both times said he got a restaurant instead. Shortly after the second call, the dispatcher called him and asked what was the matter. After Al made his report, he turned to me and said, “I could have sworn they were saying, “Columbus Wine and Bun!” We chuckled about that for a long time. We certainly needed something to laugh about!
The tension at work became more and more intense. One good thing that came out of this season was that Al saw as in a mirror some of the same characteristics he had displayed as a boss, but this time he was the employee. It had a great affect on him, and he began to address those issues in himself. He began applying for jobs back in the midwest, longing to be in familiar territory again. But it was not to be. He interviewed, but did not get a job in Missouri. Just when he was being pressed to leave his current job with none other lined up, he was approached by one of the hospitals in town to provide testing. It was a huge answer to prayer.
Al began working for St. Francis Hospital in June of 1998. Our house finally sold, and we moved into a humble rental home in Cataula, about 15 miles north of where we had been. We finally experienced some financial relief. Al enjoyed the job and the new environment. I was offered a full-time job teaching high school English at Calvary Christian School, and we began another chapter.
Al became very resentful of the tremendous amount of time that I had to spend in the teaching job. He nearly made me quit during spring break of the first year, and I begged him to pray about the decision. Within a week, he came to me and said that the Lord impressed upon him that this was more than a job. It was God’s ministry for me. Al’s love language was always quality time, and it was tough for him to adapt to the change, but he recognized more and more that this was my calling.
Our first 5-6 years in Columbus, we attended a small Christian fellowship in the country, then we made a change to a larger community church in midtown, a church that deliberately sought diversity of population between the upper and lower class. We attended for another five years, and Al became upset at a policy that he interpreted as unbiblical. As a result, he pulled us out. However, the next few months turned out to be a major turning point in Al’s life.
Next Chapter: Reconciling With the Past
For the first time in Al’s physical therapy career, he decided to leave the contract company he had served since graduation. One reason was that his old job was one of the longest contracts in his company, and he had become specialized in doing neurological testing - electromyography, nerve conduction studies, and evoked potentials. He had become board certified, no small feat for a physical therapist. The hospital was bringing in a neurologist who wanted to do his own testing, so Al began to look for contracts himself. He traveled off and on for two years, and during that season, he was able to get a masters in business through Friends University in Wichita, about 20 miles south of Newton. He had always been interested in business and economics. When Al was offered a job doing testing in the Kansas City area, he took the job, and after 15 years of living in Newton, we moved to North Kansas City, Missouri, just north of downtown KC.
On the last weekend before we had to enroll our older girls in high school based on location, during the fifth trip we made that summer to find housing, a home came up for rent, and we were amazed at the answer to prayer it provided. It was an older home, once a showpiece, with 5,000 square feet, three fireplaces, three furnaces, a large, two-story living area with floor-to-ceiling windows covering the entire side of the house that looked out onto the large, sloping back yard. The three youngest girls shared a large bedroom with built-in drawers and cabinets with a landing that looked over into the living area. They had their own shower and deck. Mark and Amy stayed in the basement, Beth in a room off the kitchen area that had once housed a maid, and we home-schooled in a large den area adjacent to the kitchen. We all had such happy memories of our year in that home.
Within three months, Al discovered that his new boss was promoting Christianity but operating in a shady manner. He asked Al on several occasions to falsify records, and Al abhorred the lack of integrity. He checked with his original company, and the nearest contract was nearly 400 miles away in Colby, Kansas, as far west as we were east. We disagreed about the decision because I felt that Al should stay and try to work it out with his new boss, but he was livid about the pretentiousness of this guy’s Christianity and his hypocrisy in business.
From February to May of 1992, Al drove back and forth about every other or third weekend. It was strenuous and difficult for all. In the spring, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and had to have two surgeries. Al took a month off to keep the household running, with help from my mother. During this season, he renewed his expressions of love and devotion toward me. At the end of the summer, we all moved to Colby where we lived for two years. Al began to evaluate his leadership style because he was so miserable managing a department in Colby. He began to search the Scriptures often for answers. He realized that pride had colored his perception of others, and he prayed for a change of heart.
Al was offered a job in Columbus, Georgia, with a group of physical therapists to do full-time testing again. He was eager for the change and welcomed living in the Southern climate. I was devastated at moving so far away from family, but the decision was made, and we moved in August of 1994.
Al found the Bible his foundational anchor. Through the challenges of his job, demands of his large family, changes in churches, and issues of his soul, he relied more and more on reading and meditating. I saw his heart become more tender as a result. There was more work to be done, but he wanted God to do it.
Part IV: Adjusting to a new Culture
We graduated from Concordia Teacher’s College in Seward, Nebraska, in the summer of 1969. Our first job was in New York City. It was one of the few locations where Al could teach in a Lutheran High and I in a Lutheran elementary school. I taught first grade at Northwest Queens Christian Day School and Al at Martin Luther High in Maspeth, NY (Brooklyn). He taught biology and physical education to very large classes. He hated New York and he disliked teaching. In the second year, he took a career interest test with his students and discovered he was suited to be a Navy pilot or physical therapist. The pastor’s daughter was pursuing PT, so Al investigated and found out he needed prerequisites to be accepted. We moved to Lincoln, Nebraska, to get the science classes he needed. Al was accepted into University of Iowa PT school in 1972.
Our first child Amy came along September 26, 1973, during his second year, and Al worked several jobs to keep the family going, so I could stay home. He worked at a hospital on weekends, Quaker Oats factory at night sewing the tops of 50-lb bags of dog food, and provided construction help in various projects. Somehow he managed to graduate and accepted a job at Halstead Clinic in Halstead, Kansas, only 25 miles from my hometown of Wichita. He chafed under the leadership of the head of the department, and sought his own position. We moved to Lawton, Oklahoma, in 1975, where he worked two years. Beth was born to us on January 8, 1976. Al was offered the head of the department back in Halstead, and we went back, finding a home in Newton, about 12 miles from Halstead.
Al preferred to lead rather than follow. The part he disliked was managing people, however. Baby Mark came along on June 9, 1978, Joanna followed on April 3, 1980. Al’s best friend became my father, Dave Taylor. He told me when Al and I were talking marriage that he was “pretty rough” but that Al would always provide for me. He became Al’s best friend, and Al enjoyed the unconditional love he found in that relationship. When my Dad died of a sudden heart attack on May 17, 1982, Al missed him greatly. Between the call that Dad was taken to the hospital and the one that told us of his death, Al was working on a patient. He suddenly sensed a presence in the room. It was the angel of death with my dad, and dad was asking who would take care of his wife? The angel pointed out that Al would be one of those who would provide care, and they were gone. Al remembered waving goodbye.
Mary was born two months later on July 14, 1982. Joy followed August 9, 1984. Al and I experience a lot of tension over the decisions about parenting. He would stuff his emotions and reactions, and then blow up. People who met him, and the children’s friends especially, always thought he was angry with them. He had a naturally negative facial expression, and was often surprised to find out that he gave that impression. He was impatient and expected instant obedience, responsibility, and a task well done. I believed those were good goals as well, but our ways of getting results differed greatly.
During the first five years of our marriage, he did not think that sharing faith aloud was necessary. He said everyone’s faith was private. Gradually, though, he began taking turns with me reading devotions to the children. He really liked the Picture Bible, and we wore out several editions. It was written in cartoon form. The kids would gather around him - beside, behind, and upon him, to look at the pictures as he read. Al loved the Old Testament stories, especially of David, his biblical hero. Al said to me on a number of occasions as he meditated on David’s story and his writings in Psalms, that he too wanted to be a “man after God’s own heart.”
Al supervised the Saturday chores. He made lists for the children and when one list was completed, they were expected to get another one. He rewarded them with glasses of Pepsi and chips. I remember coming home to wailing children because not all had gone well, but other times, the morning was successful. Our children learned their work ethic from their father. He also took the kids swimming to the recreation center, something I did not enjoy. He liked biking with them too.
Al rarely apologized if he was wrong and was usually certain he was right. He was stubborn and judgmental, and we had many arguments (behind closed doors), especially about the way to view and treat children. I learned to lay out my case with Al, then bring it to the heavenly Father. I noticed that within about three weeks, after Al had time to think it through and learned to pray it through, he would begin to see a different side.
Al was also loyal and thrifty, and we often joked about the Boy Scout qualities that he could rattle off (as an Eagle Scout) — brave, clean, and reverent, among others. His name literally means “cheerful” but the Al of our earlier years was not that. He poured himself into projects - auto mechanics, woodworking, stamp collecting, hunting, photography. He found pleasure in working hard and saving money by doing his own repairs. He added an edition to our home above the garage for a master bedroom and finished the basement.
We both had a desire to grow spiritually and were dissatisfied with the climate of the church we attended. There seemed to be little desire to go beyond church attendance and go deeper into the spiritual life, so we changed churches in 1980. We did indeed grow, but as time went on, Al became disgruntled. He was loyal to the teachings of his youth, and compared all teachings to those. While I was with him on most issues, I believed that we should rely on Scripture rather than church doctrine and tradition to define truth. We went round and round and agreed to disagree on some points. Eventually, we left that church at Al’s insistance, and drove 30 miles one way to attend my parent’s church in Wichita.
During this season, Al was a faithful provider, a hard worker, a determined man with many strong goals. In our 23rd year of marriage, Al was driving home from work and listening to Christian radio. Gary Smalley was explaining how the little gestures mean so much to a wife — a card, flowers, thoughtful gifts and words. Al told me later that he felt a “thump” on the back of his head and heard the word “Listen!” He was so impacted by what he was hearing, he pulled over the car and wept at his lack of consideration toward me. He acknowledged that he had put his desires and interests ahead of me, and he repented. He vowed that he would tell me every day he loved me.
The change began that day, but I didn’t believe it at first. It took several months for me to understand that this was a permanent shift in the dynamics of our relationship. When Al made up his mind, I could count on follow-through. He wrote me notes, gave me flowers, bought me small gifts, took me on a trip, and told me daily that he loved me. Our marriage took on a new dimension. He was more willing to pray with me when I brought concerns to him. We read Scripture together, not just separately. How thankful I was and am for that new season of our lives together.
Next chapter: Moving and Meditating
In this last post of Al’s progress, I want to share my testimony of the life I was privileged to know well for 46 years. In the last book of John, verses 24,25, he says, “This is the disciple who testifies to these things and who wrote them down. We know that his testimony is true. Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.”
I believe that one of the ways that these verses are true is that Jesus, who is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow (Hebrew 13:5), is writing a testimony of His work in the lives of His people. Because I was his best friend and confidante, I can accurately testify to the truth of these matters. Though some parts of the story may trouble those who knew him well, we all live in a broken world and have obstacles to overcome, and I am blessed to have been a witness to the book that was Al Ahlman.
THE BOOK:
Al was the second of four boys born to a German Lutheran pastor and a Nebraska farm girl, one of 12 children, who became a teacher. Al was born in Superior, Nebraska, then the family moved to Lincoln, Nebraska, MIlwaukee, Wisconsin, and finally to Northglenn, Colorado. From all that I have observed and heard, Al was a very sensitive child. He preferred to be a loner. He was physically and emotionally sensitive, and for whatever combination of factors in his parents’ lives, Al grew up believing they did not love him. He needed nurture in a way that either he didn’t perceive or was lacking or both. It was a giant hole in his heart that he was finally able to lay to rest in his last days.
He didn’t talk about these things for many years. He preferred to bury them. However, this affected his life in many ways. He didn’t trust anyone, and it took him years to truly trust me. He covered himself in layers of insensitivity to protect the tenderness that was hurting.
He remembers loving and kind teachers in Lutheran elementary school who conveyed acceptance; He remembers sensing the security of God’s Word that stayed with him all his days. The Word of God was the anchor of his soul and kept him steady. This he trusted.
Al chose St. Johns College in Winfield, Kansas, because it was the least expensive. We met within the first week of school and he literally saved my life. We took a walk around campus with a couple of other students, and we climbed on a box that held electrical equipment and got on top of the gym roof, which sloped upward to three or four stories high. I got carried away and began leaping and jumping across the humps of roofing until Al yelled out and grabbed my shirt, pulling me down to prevent me from falling off the edge. I don’t think I really understood the significance until many years later. He reminded me from time to time that he sacrificed the crystal of his watch to save me, and I owed him!
We began dating the following year and married August 31, 1968. Thus began our adventure together.
Part II: Marriage and Family
The memorial for Al will be held Tuesday, December 20 at 1:00 p.m. at Andrews Presbyterian Church, 4980 Hancock Road, Midland, GA 31820.
Bill Douglas will officiate and Latrevo Choir from Calvary Christian will sing. I plan to share a testimony and a couple of my daughters will do the same. I’ve also asked Bob Haines, Al’s buddy, to share, and we will have the slideshow of photos of Al. That’s as far as I’ve planned.
Memorials still go to the Ray Ahlman Dunaway Memorial Foundation for Mark’s cancer research.
Not all my children can attend. Some have taken off as much work as possible for the duration of the illness, death, and memorial.
I plan to go to the Dogwood house the middle of next week to sort through belongings in preparation for the closing on the house Dec. 21, then back to Charlotte after the closing to finish Christmas shopping and on to Charleston where we will gather at Mark and Joy’s on the weekend. They too have a neighbor who is willing to loan her home to our large brood while Christina is out of town.
For those who don’t know, my new address is 12028 Regent Ridge Lane, Charlotte, NC, 28278.
“Our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” 2 Corinthians 4:17
The gathering of family and friends in Lawrence was such a blessing! Mustard Seed Church opened their doors and their hearts to us. In the many years we have visited family in Lawrence, we have also become acquainted with folks at Mustard Seed, and Pastor Peter graciously supplied the luncheon prepared by a caterer and facilities at church expense. Close to 100 people attended - Al’s brothers and families, most of my siblings and family members, and dear friends from our Newton, Kansas, years. Even Beth and Paul’s neighbors from Charlotte ,the Wilhelms, who “loaned” us their home, drove from their newer home in Colorado Springs to join us.
The service began with Paul Stanfield, Monica Taylor, and Sarah Barclay singing “Isaiah 43.” Our last service at St. Andrews in Columbus on September 18, the congregation sang that song. Neither Al nor I could sing because we were so impacted by the promise that even though we walked through the rivers and the fire, we would not be overcome by them because God is our Lord and has redeemed us and called us by name.
Joanna shared some of Al’s favorite scriptures from Psalm 1, 27, and 119. She shared how much the Word of God meant to Al and how she saw its power at work in his life. She remembered all the children cuddling around Al. She deliberately took the position behind him to look over his shoulder.
Mark then shared his heart about his relationship with his dad. He was honest in admitting that they experienced conflict, but he also learned to honor and respect Al, and he credited Al for influencing his decision to become a doctor. He honored him as the person who had most impacted his life. He also read Al’s obituary.
Then Beth and Amy shared insights into their father’s life. Beth, who is very like Al in her personality and goals, spent a day helping Al go through his meticulously catalogued files. After a couple of hours of carefully reading and categorizing the contents, Al picked up a stack of files, tossed them into a box to discard, and declared that all the time he had spent working with them didn’t amount to “a hill of beans.” He suddenly saw his pursuits in a different light, and Beth had to reclaim some of them from his trash pile to be sure they weren’t important. She also mentioned Al’s influence through reading family devotions and character sketches. Amy talked about the many kinds of hats Al wore - PT, sports, guns, business, movie buddy, and so forth, but her favorite title was “Daddy.”
We played a photo show put together by Monica and Mary Ahlman to the song “Love Came Down” by Brian Johnson - the same one posted on the blog. Joanna popped that album in the CD player in the van as we left Columbus, and it has rung in my soul ever since. It perfectly suited our experience, from our “heart” being “overwhelmed” to reminding ourselves of the truth and remembering what God has done. The lyrics took on deep significance as the chorus sang, “I am yours, I am forever yours.”
Mary and Joy came up next, which wasn’t fair to them because the slideshow was very poignant. They brought some comic relief to share some of Al’s humorous side. They demonstrated the “chip hand”, the tuck-in routine, the “melba” diet, the “kermie” bags, and the “Bog Patrol.” Joy remembers how much she loved swimming with him as he allowed her to ride on top of him as he swam underneath the surface. Most recently, she remembers the texts and messages that carried Al’s blessing on her life and that of her siblings.
Al’s brother Dave shared a message he titled “It’s So Wonderful!” Those of us who knew Al well chuckled at the phrase because he applied it to anything that pleased him from movies to ice cream to assurance of salvation. Dave did a wonderful job of weaving together his love of Al, his opportunity to pastor him in those weeks in Colorado, his regard for his brother, and the struggle that Al experienced in the last weeks over the assurance of salvation. He was troubled by his sins, and between the tumor playing tricks on his mind and the exaggeration of emotions from steroids, Al had to be reminded again and again that he was safe. Each time, he would relax and say, “That’s wonderful.” Dave reminded us that there is no better and more wonderful gift than peace with God and the fact that we rejoice in Al’s now being able to proclaim in the heavenlies how WONDERFUL it is to see the face of the Savior he loves.
Paul Stanfield sang “It is Well With My Soul,” a precious hymn that carried us through the last couple weeks. Beth often sang it, and we picked it up as a theme.
Paul Taylor brought the service to a close, acknowledging his own love for Al as brother and friend. He explained the significance of the Balloon Release, and we ended in prayer. Then we all filed into the lobby to wait for the inflation of the balloon. It was raining hard, so it took a bit to get set up. I prayed over the balloon release and prayed that each of us would take the time left to us on this earth to simply follow the Shepherd. Mark explained that the balloon would rise above the atmosphere, and then he shared how much Al loved me and called me his “saving grace.” I was in awe.
We waited for a let-up in rain, and then Mark gently raised up the balloon and slowly released it. We gathered under umbrellas and watched as the sphere caught the breeze and drifted unerringly into the gray sky, finally disappearing in the clouds……
Thank you to all who came, braving the weather, and gracing our gathering with love and kindness.
Mark inflated a 20’ weather balloon with some of Al’s ashes at the end of the memorial service in Lawrence. Though the weather was cold and rainy, symbolic of our view from below when death occurs, the balloon soared into the heavens and disappeared into the clouds, to rise to the outer edges of the atmosphere and to carry the ashes around the globe. Assisting is Paul Taylor by Mark on the left, Paul Stanfield and Ben Taylor on the right.
“Our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” (2 Cor. 4:17)
